


Too Fast

by small_blue_owl



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst and Feels, Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Holy Water, How Do I Tag, M/M, Mutual Pining, No beta we fall like Crowley, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), not certain never done this before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27754243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/small_blue_owl/pseuds/small_blue_owl
Summary: The scene where Aziraphale gives Crowley the holy water told from both of their perspectives.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Crowley

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time on the archive and I am quite excited. So I've been working on this for a few days and thought I'd share... So basically it's the scene where Aziraphale gives the holy water to Crowley and then says the line that breaks my heart every time: you go too fast for me, Crowely. :( Any way, I decided to write that scene from both of their perspectives cause I wanted to explore what they both were thinking in that scene. So here it is. It's sad. I'm sorry. And it's kind of a mess. But oh well. Hope you enjoy :)   
> (Note: I do not own any of these characters or this dialogue. It is lifted straight from the show.)

The door of the Bentley clicked shut.

As Crowley was about to put the keys in the ignition, something caught his eye. He looked up quickly. Aziraphale sat in the passenger seat. Shocked but not willing to show it, Crowley regarded the angel with vague surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he asked shortly.

He hadn’t intended it to be rude, it was only that he felt absolutely sure that no angel belonged in this part of town, especially not _his_ angel. The fact of meeting Aziraphale didn’t trouble him, it was more the fact of meeting him _here_.

Aziraphale dropped his eyes. “I needed a word with you.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. Aziraphale seemed nervous and Crowley had no idea why. His first thought was something to do with Upstairs, which was troubling, though he tried to ignore it.

“What?” he asked shortly.

Aziraphale sighed. “I work in Soho, I hear things. I hear that you’re setting up a…” he paused and glanced at Crowley “…caper to rob a church.”

Crowley looked away. So. Aziraphale had found him out and come all the way here to try and change his mind. Why the angel didn’t trust him, he didn’t know. Crowley wasn’t stupid. He would be careful with the holy water. He knew what it could do.

Aziraphale suddenly turned to face him with an earnest expression. “Crowley, it’s too dangerous. Holy water won’t just kill your body it will destroy you completely.” There was concern in his voice as he spoke, a genuine fear that Crowley would get hurt and the demon couldn’t fathom why. No angel should care this much for a demon, that he was sure.

“You told me what you think,” he replied, slightly annoyed, choosing to react to _what_ the angel was concerned about, not _why_ he was concerned at all, “a hundred and five years ago.”

“And I haven’t changed my mind,” Aziraphale cut him off.

The genuine concern in the angel’s voice was getting to him. Crowley had ignored emotions so long he believed he no longer had them. But there were times when something in the angel’s eyes caused a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t understand.

“But I can’t have you risking your life,” continued the angel, sincerely, “not even for something dangerous.”

Crowley had to look away. Aziraphale managed to make to make himself so obliviously endearing and it almost made Crowley angry.

“So…” Aziraphale said softly as he reached down to the door pocket. Slowly, he brought out a little black-and-white checked thermos. “You can call off the robbery.” he said softly.

He slowly held out the thermos to Crowley.

Their eyes met for a moment.

Aziraphale nodded slightly. “Don’t go unscrewing the cap,” he added.

Crowley gently took the thermos like it would shatter at any moment. He regarded it with something akin to awe. Why had Aziraphale gone to the trouble to get this for him? The gift was not exactly a straightforward message. The water would destroy any demon who so much as touched it. Did Aziraphale know what Crowley meant to do with it? He didn’t intend to use the holy water unless, well, unless Downstairs found out who he’d been spending his time with for the past six thousand or so years. He knew those demons would do their worst if they ever caught him, so he wanted to be sure they never got the chance.

“Is this the real thing?” he asked still looking at the thermos, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aziraphale nodded shortly. “The holiest,” he replied.

Crowley still could not believe that his angel would give him such a thing. He glanced up at Aziraphale. “After everything you said,” he mused more to himself than to the angel. Aziraphale nodded stiffly again. He was purposely not meeting Crowley’s gaze.

Crowley shifted slightly. “Should I say thank you?” he asked slowly.

The angel still wouldn’t look at him.

“Better not,” he said quietly.

A moment passed where neither spoke.

Crowley truly did want to thank him, though he had not the slightest idea how.

“Well, can I drop you anywhere?”

It was the best thing he could think of in the moment. All he wanted was an excuse to spend more time with the angel, though he couldn’t admit that to himself. It was safer to keep those thoughts out of his mind completely, so he never said anything by accident.

Aziraphale finally looked up. “No,” he said decisively as though he’d been planning his answer. “Thank you.”

Crowley’s face fell slightly even though he tried very hard to be emotionless. The angel regarded him with a touch of pity. “Oh, don’t look so disappointed,” said the angel in that earnest, kind tone.

Crowley paused. Had he really looked disappointed? He had made his best effort _not_ to look disappointed.

“Perhaps one day,” continued Aziraphale a bit wistfully, “we could… I don’t know.” Crowley hung on his every word. “Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.”

There was something so perfect, so endearing about the angel that Crowley could not seem to resist. Despite his best efforts not to, Crowley liked the angel very much. He kept on reminding himself how ridiculous it all was. He was a demon. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way towards anyone, especially not an angel. He was supposed to hate Aziraphale. Why didn’t he? What even was this? Crowley knew what this feeling _wasn’t_ but had ever stopped to think about what it _was._ It was all part of Her plan, it had to be, but why? He had been put on earth by Downstairs to tempt, not to be tempted. It was all backwards. Maybe Aziraphale sensed this too. Maybe he understood it more. Maybe… Crowley tried to get up the nerve to find out.

“I’ll give you a lift,” he offered more earnestly this time, “Anywhere you wanna go.”

Aziraphale glanced up at him. An unreadable expression crept over his face. It was either pity or sadness or hope or something, Crowley couldn’t tell.

There was a moment of silence.

Finally, Aziraphale spoke.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.”

His voice was so soft, yet so sad all at once. Crowley had believed that demons had no hearts. But you can’t break something that isn’t there.

Of course. He had no right to assume Aziraphale wanted to spend more time with him. No reason to think that he felt the same way. As the angel got out of the car, Crowley had to fight the urge to beg him to stay. Perhaps there was nothing there. Perhaps it was all just the wishful thinking of a demon who wanted to be loved but knew it was impossible. Someday he would figure it out. Someday. Crowley smiled sadly to himself as the door of the Bentley clicked shut again.

**~~*~~**


	2. Aziraphale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the same scene from Aziraphale's perspective.

The door of the Bentley clicked shut.

Aziraphale sat quietly as Crowley climbed into the car beside him. As the demon glanced up, Aziraphale smiled slightly.

“What are you doing here?” Crowley asked sharply.

Aziraphale had been expecting a bit warmer welcome, but Crowley could be snappish at times.

“I needed a word with you,” he said.

He was nervous about this, quite honestly. They had had this conversation before, and it had not gone over well. Aziraphale didn’t know how Crowley would react to the topic being raised again. The demon raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked.

Aziraphale folded his hands, trying to keep any nervousness in check. “I work in Soho,” he began deliberately, “I hear things. I hear that you’re setting up a…” he paused, searching for a euphemism, “…caper to rob a church.”

Crowley looked away.

Well, now he would get defensive and that was the last thing the angel wanted. He wished Crowley wasn’t so dismissive of this threat to his life. He turned to face the demon. “Crowley, it’s too dangerous.” His voice had dropped in pitch but grown in intensity. “Holy water won’t just kill your body, it will destroy you completely.” He tried not to look too beseeching but wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

Crowley seemed to brush off the angel’s concern, which troubled Aziraphale even more. The demon seemed not to care that he might be obliterated off the face of the universe if he wasn’t careful. Did Crowley know how devastated a certain angel would be if that happened? Aziraphale couldn’t understand it.

“You told me what you think,” replied Crowley in that same dismissive tone “a hundred and five years ago.”

“And I haven’t changed my mind,” the angel said decidedly.

He was not about to let Crowley go off and put himself in danger when the stakes were so high. “But I can’t have you risking your life,” he added a bit more concerned than he intended, “Not even for something dangerous. So…”

Very carefully and a bit reluctantly, the angel reached down to the door pocket and took out a little black and white checked thermos.

He had thought this over so many times. So many hours in the bookshop over so many cups of tea, he had thought it all out. This was a deadly present, but if things went pear-shaped as Crowley put it, holy water was far better than the tortures Downstairs would come up with. If worst really did come to worst… Aziraphale barely even let himself think about it. Even the hypothetical caused his heart to constrict and the tears rise to his eyes.

 _This is just in case,_ he kept reminding himself. _This doesn’t mean the worst will happen._

Very slowly, he held out the thermos, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “You can call off the robbery,” he said softly.

Crowley gently took it.

“Don’t go unscrewing the cap,” the angel added. He silently hoped Crowley understood what could not be spoken. _We’re on our side,_ the angel thought to himself, _We’re not enemies anymore. We never were._

Crowley was looking at the little thermos with what might have been disbelief. “Is this the real thing?” he inquired looking up.

The angel didn’t dare to look at him. “The holiest,” he whispered.

The demon looked back at the thermos. “After everything you said?” he mused.

Aziraphale nodded shortly.

He began to have misgivings about all this. Perhaps this was all wrong. Perhaps he’d made a mistake. Perhaps Crowley wanted a way out of this mess before it became one. Aziraphale couldn’t bear to think of life without Crowley. He had grown more fond of the demon than he even admitted to himself, and a world without Crowley would be, well to put it simply… would be hell. There was a special place in his heart for the demon. He had never found the right time or the right way to approach the subject, so it had gone unspoken for centuries.

Crowley looked up again. “Should I say thank you?” he asked slowly.

Aziraphale still couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze.

“Better not,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t help but recall Crowley’s words: _My lot don’t send rude notes._ He dared not say something that might upset anyone or draw attention to them, dared not say anything that might prompt the demon to use the gift he had just received.

“Well, can I drop you anywhere?” Crowley offered.

The angel shook his head. “No,” he replied, trying to bury any reluctance in his voice, “thank you.” He had resolved to stay no longer than absolutely necessary, not because he didn’t want to, but because it wasn’t safe. But when the angel saw Crowley’s face fall slightly, he almost changed his mind.

“Oh, don’t look so disappointed,” said the angel. He really couldn’t bear to see the demon so sad. “Perhaps one day we could, I don’t know,” he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t draw attention, “go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.”

No harm in that, was there? Upstairs couldn’t object to that, could they? Aziraphale had no idea what was safe anymore.

“I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you wanna go.”

The demon sounded more earnest this time. Aziraphale couldn’t believe it. Did Crowley really think this was safe? He must know it was impossible. Someone would find out, someone would not be pleased, they would be punished. Aziraphale wished so much that there were no Head Offices to report to, no one telling them what they could and couldn’t do. But since the case stood as it did now, it was far too dangerous.

He glanced at the demon beside him.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.” he said softly.

The words broke his heart, but the alternative would have as well, eventually, he was certain. He couldn’t risk losing Crowley entirely for something that he wasn’t even sure existed. The angel got out of the car without a backward look. Partially because he knew if he did he would change his mind and partially because he didn’t want the demon to see the tears in his eyes. Someday he hoped things would be different. Someday. Aziraphale smiled sadly to himself as the door of the Bentley clicked shut again.

**~~*~~**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and feedback are much appreciated :)


End file.
